


Intercepted And Rerouted

by ArwenLune



Series: Rock Happy 'verse [24]
Category: Generation Kill, Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Gen, POV Outsider, for the Rock Happy universe, gapfiller
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-25
Updated: 2017-05-04
Packaged: 2018-10-10 13:36:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,772
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10438848
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArwenLune/pseuds/ArwenLune
Summary: Very belated gapfiller for something that's mentioned inRock Happychapter11- Doc Bryan's alternative route to Stargate Command.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Out of context this really won't make much sense for either Generation Kill or Stargate Atlantis fans. If you enjoy 'Outsider POV on Atlantis,' daily life and found family stories, may I suggest you read [Rock Happy](http://archiveofourown.org/works/321928) first?

So, Tim Bryan was going to the USS Bataan, instead of on the secret assignment he and the guys had hyped over all week. Maybe. 

No, let's be realistic, he was  _ definitely  _ going to the USS Bataan, because the Navy fucked up his reassignment. By the time he would be on board ship the secretive new command wouldn't bother getting his ass back off.

The LT had given some weirdly vague answer about going along with the transport orders and he would be 'intercepted and rerouted' but well, Tim was already in his seat on the transport plane together with about two hundred other Navy personnel and Marines. His gear was stowed, and the doors were about to be closed. He'd checked multiple times over the past day, and his travel orders hadn't changed. Wasn't like there was a lot of intercepting left at this point. 

_ Damn it. _

He'd have preferred to stay with Bravo just because he knew the guys, but getting reassed to another unit was pretty standard for a Corpsman. It was just that that secret assignment had caught his interest. He hadn't been around when the AirForce officers had visited, but he'd seen the LTs face when he talked about them, about what they were offering. As much as he could tell Tim, anyway. 

Iraq had worn down Lt Fick, ground the youthful bounce off of him, and this was the first time since before Iraq that Tim had seen the LT with a light in his eyes. According to the others, Colbert had shown some of the same before he'd been swept off to wherever the fuck they were going. 

_ They _ . Not Tim. The  _ others _ . And damn it, he'd wanted to go along with his Marines, but he also just plain wanted to  _ know _ . 

He dug out his mp3 player and put in his earphones, keying up some music, and closed his eyes. He hadn't exactly slept, the previous night - all the worry about not knowing where he was going had kept him awake. At least this was a night flight and people around him would be trying to sleep too - with any luck he'd be able to sleep most of the flight.   

He'd probably mostly be working in the on board clinic, so the Bataan was sure to involve listening to a lot of devil dogs complaining about their self-inflicted health issues. A reporter he'd met in Iraq had once suggested Tim write a book about his work, titled 'Tell Me About Your Crotch Rot.' He'd get plenty of material on a ship tour.

Something made him open his eyes again, some shift in the mood of the people around him. The forward door still hadn't been shut, and Tim couldn't see what was going on there, but some of the men near the gangway were watching avidly. Tim pulled out his earbuds and nudged the seaman next to him. 

"What's going on?"

"Brass," the man answered, sounding a intrigued. " _ Chairforce _ brass."

Somebody else muttered "The hell?" and then Tim could see the female USAF Major making her way down the rows, scanning the faces. She was in dress uniform. It was evening hours, and this was a Navy flight, and none of this made sense. As she made her way down the rows she occasionally referred to the phone she had in her hand. Finally she stopped at Tim's row, glanced at the photo on her phone screen, and focused on him. 

"NHM1 Bryan?"

"...yes? Ma'am," Tim said slowly, half his attention drawn by a commotion by the still-open front door of the plane. 

"Come with me, please. Bring your gear."

When he didn't immediately react, honestly too stunned to do more than blink at her because what the  _ hell _ , she added:

"I'm Major Teldy. Lieutenant Fick contacted me."

Teldy - oh. That was the contact the LT had named when he'd been trying to avert this transpo clusterfuck, the Major who had told him they would try to intercept and reroute him. Tim had assumed that meant they'd try to change his orders in time.

Not that a field-grade officer would come down in evening hours, in dress blues, to physically pull him off the plane. 

Holy shit. 

He got up and pulled his gear, hearing somebody a row over muttered 'Is the Airforce kidnapping corpsmen now?'. Then he followed the Major to where the door was still open, by now clearly delaying the plane. A second officer, Major Davis according to his uniform, was in discussion with two members of the flight crew, and from what Tim could hear, correcting the passenger lists so Tim was officially not on the flight anymore.

Teldy lead him down the ramp, and after a moment Davis followed. The plane door closed behind him, and the moment they were on the tarmac, the ground crew began moving the steps.

"Right!" Davis clapped his hands together, clearly pleased with what they'd just pulled off. What that was exactly, Tim still wasn't sure of. "Let's go find some coffee."

Teldy nodded and turned to Tim, who was wondering if an explanation would happen anytime soon.

"Sorry for the..." she handwaved, seeming to indicate what just happened, "Lieutenant Fick called me on your behalf, and when we couldn't get the altered transport orders pushed through fast enough, I figured this was the easiest way. "

As little as the LT had said, it had been pretty clear that whatever deeply classified project the USAF wanted them for, it wouldn't be in California. Word was that Colbert had flown out to Colorado. And sending two Majors in dress uniform travelling a couple of states over to pull a corpsman from a plane didn't exactly seem like the easiest way to do anything to Tim. It sure as shit wasn't how any military branch  _ he _ was familiar with handled things. He nodded in acknowledgement, hefting his duffel more comfortably onto his shoulders.

They took him to a small meeting room inside the airbase, stopping for coffee on the way, and  Davis took a stack of paperwork out of his attache case. He also put a small, organic-looking device on the table. It turned on with a low hum, and then went quiet.

"Right, now we have some privacy," Teldy said, settling down, "I want to make clear that no matter what just happened, you haven't signed on for this yet. If the USS Bataan sounds more appealing at this point, we can arrange to have you on there inside a week."

From anybody else that might have sounded more a threat than reassurance, but she said it earnestly, as if it was genuinely important to her that he felt free to refuse whatever the hell they were recruiting him for. He nodded.

"Understood, Ma'am."

"Good. As I understand it you will have been told most of this information by Lieutenant Fick, but we'll repeat it now for completeness sake..."

Major Davis launched into a speech he'd clearly given before, as much as they could tell him about the circumstances of the project without revealing anything of the classified details. Most of it he had indeed already heard from the LT, and while listening Tim observed the two.

Contrary to what gender would have had him assume, of the two of them Davis was the bureaucrat, clearly experienced and comfortable with both this conversation and the paperwork. Marines tended to rail against POGs, but Tim was well aware that if a unit was to get anything done, you needed somebody willing and able to tackle the paperwork without wanting to shoot themselves. Davis seemed like just that sort of bureaucracy ninja. In contrast, Teldy was likely a field officer - or had been in the past, a little less patient with the careful path this conversation had to tread, a little less comfortable in her dress uniform.  

"Do you have questions at this point?" Davis asked seriously when he was finished, and Teldy glimpsed a smile. Of course he had questions. 

"Several hundred," Tim answered with wry humour. "But as for what you might be able to answer right now: why did you come down here in person to get me off the flight?"

"It was the most workable way to intercept you; once you'd been on the USS Bataan you would have been much less accessible to us," Davis answered. 

"Lt. Fick made it clear not just any corpsman would do, and we agreed," Teldy added, answering the question Tim had really been asking. "And we don't like to break up well-functioning units unless there is no other way."

Tim nodded in acceptance, it still didn't fully make sense to dedicate this many resources to getting a single, specific person signed of for the program, but she clearly meant it. 

"If I do sign on, what happens then?" he glanced at his watch - it was nearing midnight. 

"We'll do the minimum paperwork right now and depart for Colorado Springs immediately," Davis answered. "You'd spend the night en route, and your teammates would get their induction tomorrow morning and join you." 

...en...route? He'd assumed they'd flown down and were taking him back with them. Or were they talking about a drive and a motel stop?

What the hell, he already knew he wasn't going to back out to go to the USS Bataan and listen to people talk about their crotch rot. No way in hell. If it was complete bullshit, he was pretty sure Colbert would have found a way to warn them off by now, anyway. 

"All right, I'm in."

Teldy looked pleased while Davis produced more paperwork and set to work talking Tim through it. A lot of it was a hefty non disclosure agreement. Still no details, of course.

"I'm going to arrange travel," Teldy said after a while, and left. By the time she got back, carrying a big box of donuts under her arm, Davis was just explaining how they'd explain what he needed to know once they were at the destination for the night, as it was more secure. By now Tim had been awake for about 24 hours, and was getting tired enough to be just as interested in a bed as in whatever secrets these people had to tell him, so he went along with it. 

To his surprise they got into a taxi, signed out of the base, and went to a nearby motel, a slightly rundown kind of place on a quiet road. They got out at the curb and Teldy paid the driver. Once he was gone she put a radio set in her ear and pulled out a handheld device Tim had never seen before, and led them onto a path to the side of the motel. 

He was beginning to get a very weird feeling about this. 

"We secure?" Davis asked. 

"We're clear. No lifeforms. Motel only has cameras to the front," Teldy said. 

"Right. I hope you're a science fiction fan, Bryan. Sorry we're springing this on you, but the logistics are actually surprisingly complicated."

Tim gave him a flatly expectant look, because that was the least useful information he'd ever received in an explanation, and he'd been in goddamned Operation Iraqi Freedom, so that was saying something. 

"We're about to be beamed up to a spaceship that's in orbit," Teldy said bluntly, eyes unfocused as if she was listening for something on her radio. "Daedalus is ready. Stand still please."

Tim frowned at her, and then there was a pale light, and—


	2. Chapter 2

"—um. What the actual fuck. Ma'am."

The three of them were in an empty space, kind of like a loading dock. 

"Sorry to spring that on you," she said, more animated now. "We have a devil of a time pulling that off without being spotted or ending up on missing person's lists, so usually we would have flown by plane. This was an emergency." She shrugged. "And here were are - this is the USS Daedalus, a spaceship. You'll spend the night here, and tomorrow morning I am bringing up your teammates for the full induction."

"...I'm in space," Tim heard himself say tonelessly. 

"We are. Captain-" she turned to somebody in a jumpsuit, sitting behind a control desk. "I cleared with the bridge that NHM1 Bryan here can stay in guest quarters tonight."

"Yes ma'am," the man nodded. "Sergeant Steinberg is on his way."

Major Teldy guided him to the doorway of the space they were in, while Major Davis stayed in the yellow circle that was painted on the ground. 

"Can you send me straight down to the Mountain?" Davis asked. 

"Right away, sir."

"Thanks for your help," Teldy said, accepting the attache case. 

A moment later the Major disappeared in a column of light, and Tim blinked slowly. 

"Did Colbert get this show?" he asked finally, as he became aware of the low background rumble of his environment. He could just picture the Iceman's face. 

"We had a little more notice for Sergeant Colbert," Teldy said, leading him into an adjoining space that had some seats along the wall. "So he didn't get dropped into it quite so dramatically."

She offered him a donut from the box she'd brought, and took one herself. 

"The SGC is in Cheyenne Mountain Base, in Colorado. That's where I'm stationed and where you and your team will be training over the next month. The project you are slated for is… a little further afield. Because it's so late and getting you into the mountain takes additional paperwork, you're staying here overnight. Tomorrow morning I'm going down to pick up Lt. Fick and the rest of your team. They'll be coming up here too, so I only have to do the whole story once."

"Right." And  _ here  _ was… in space. 

Now he had some time to take it in, the place did kind of feel like a ship, with the metal bulkheads and the low background rumble of engines.. 

    


Just then a USAF sergeant walked in, a man radiating such calm, familiar NCO vibes that Tim was almost relieved. It felt LIKE normalcy had returned to his life. 

"Ma'am, welcome back," the man greeted Major Teldy. "Are you staying?"

"I had about five minutes notice of the beam-out this evening, so I need to get home. I'll be back tomorrow morning. This is Bryan, the advance guard for the team we're picking up tomorrow. He's staying overnight."

"Right you are, ma'am," was the easy, informal answer. Whatever else this bizarre command was, they didn't seem to stand on ceremony. 

The Major held out the box of donuts. 

"Here, these are for the bridge, with our thanks for working with us on the fly this evening."

"That will be appreciated, Ma'am."

Bryan nodded a weary goodbye to Major Teldy and followed Steinberg into a long corridor. They passed a small viewport and Tim was momentarily distracted by the sergeant handing off the donuts to a passing airman. Then he looked at the viewport. 

...yes, yep, there it was. 

Earth. 

He was in space. 

Cool, cool, cool. Right. Fine. Space. 

Steinberg waited while he stared at it for a long moment, questions crowding his mind - how was there gravity on the ship? How the hell could a ship this size be a secret? How long had it been here? Where else did it go? 

He was too tired to ask and definitely too tired to process answers right now, so he just tore his eyes away from the viewport and nodded that he was ready to continue. 

"Here, you need to have it on you as long as you're aboard," Steinberg said, handing him a visitor badge. On examination it was a little more than a badge.

"Doubles as a radio, in case we need to raise you in an emergency."

Tim nodded - made sense. It was probably also a tracker.

"The mess is down there, food available between 0400 and 0900. They usually refill the food for when the morning shift comes off at 0800, but I wouldn't come later than that."

"Gotcha," Tim nodded. 

The sergeant lead him down a gangway and around a corner, and indicated a door. 

"Lock works with your visitor badge. Blue switch is the daylight lamp, shower cuts off after four minutes. They'll radio you when your teammates arrive."

"Thanks."

The room wasn't large, but set up nicely, with a small desk and some nice photos of Earth-from-space on the walls. He registered little more than that before he'd kicked his boots off, loosened his belt, and crashed onto the bed. 

_ Space _ . 

What the hell.


End file.
